Dear Valentine’s Day,
We don’t know each other well – strike that – we don’t know each other at all. Aside from the few brief times in elementary school we were forced to converge for the sake of the class, I’ve been nothing more than a bystander to you for 32 years. I watched everyone else partake in your love-induced debauchery while I stood alone all that time. In case you missed the memo, I’ve been single since day one and have had no chance to celebrate you properly (read more about that here). You heighten my awareness of that annually on February 14th. I question my value when you come to town because it seems like time after time I fail to prove that I am worthy of your presence. I know I’m not alone. Read more
For as long as I can remember I have had the same vision of my dream house. A pale yellow, two story colonial with a wrap around front porch and white picket fence- an architectural style that can be found both in the north and south. I would decorate the steps leading up to the porch with Americana banners in the summer and Christmas garland in the winter.
I love perusing the listings on Zillow to see if I can find my dream home for sale. When the ground broke on the new homes down the street from me in Celebration, Florida, I immediately hopped online to look at the exterior designs and floor plains. What I failed to consider each time I envisioned myself living in one of those homes is that I have not once spent the night alone in anything larger than my two bedroom condo. I love living alone and not having to share my space with anyone. In my 1,000 square foot, third floor walk up with an alarm, I felt totally untouchable. In a four bedroom, two story house, not so much. Read more